


TEETH

by ladyfenharel



Category: Elder Scrolls, Elder Scrolls III: Morrowind, Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: F/F, Light Bondage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-31
Updated: 2017-05-31
Packaged: 2018-11-07 04:25:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,780
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11051289
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladyfenharel/pseuds/ladyfenharel
Summary: “You think you are possessing me – / But I’ve got my teeth in you.”-♦-♦-Serana and Arwael are not the model of a healthy relationship.





	TEETH

Serana traced her tongue across the edges of her fangs, as she was wont to do when upset. She had a thirst, but preferred not to feed when emotionally distressed- It always seemed to taint the blood. A chill bit the air in Riften today, as all the men and mer scurried by her in layers of fur. She wanted to escape the relentless Skyrim sun, but the thought of running into the dragonborn at home kept her frozen in place, overlooking the market.

She heard the weight of the Lioness’ footsteps before she saw her. The wooden railing creaked as Mjoll leaned over it. “Rare to see you alone in the city.”

Serana shrugged, not moving her gaze from the blur of the market.

“Must be hard loving a dragonborn. They’ve the heart and soul of the beasts, you know.” She sighed, and Serana heard the slow beating of her pulse in her neck. “You needn’t bear that alone.”

“Dragons always go mad- whether from their greed, or their pride, only Talos knows.” She adjusted her gloves and furrowed her brows. “The Dawnguard wounded me with some sun spell. I fumbled for an elixir and one of the men grabbed me. Their leader, Isran, said they’d back off of her forever in exchange for me. She told them, 'If you best me, she’s yours.’”

Mjoll lay a hand on Serana’s shoulder. She burned like the sun. “But you are standing here, alive.” Her eyes widened. “Or, as alive as you can be.”

A smile tugged at her lips. It quickly dissipated when she remembered the fight. “There were dozens of them- it was pure stupidity! She lunged for the one who held me, tore his head straight off his shoulders. You should have seen the look in her eyes. Only Isran and a few mer made it out alive. She gambled with my _life_.”

“I understand your pain, my friend.” She slipped her arm around Serana’s back, lowering her voice. “But I suggest you head home and lock up quickly, for the leader of the Dawnguard is asking around the Bee and Barb for you two.”

The tension in her friend’s shoulders made sense now. She walked with Mjoll towards Honeyside, the tall Nord concealing her the best she could. Serana kissed her cheek when they reached the threshold. “Thank you for listening, and for the warning. You are so good.”

The Lionesses’ cheeks reddened, and Serana briefly wondered what it would be like to love someone like her. Mjoll bowed. “Be safe, my lady.”

She headed towards the tavern, hopefully to throw them off her trail. Serana unlocked Honeyside and entered. None of the candles were lit, and the fireplace was devoid of its usual fire. She bolted both locks and leaned her ear against the door. She couldn’t pick up Isran’s voice. She could escape out the back, so long as there wasn’t more Dawnguard by the docks-

The scent of alcohol seared her nose just as fumbling hands wrapped around her hip. “Welcome home.”

Serana turned abruptly, greeted by the glowing eyes of the dragonborn. “This isn’t my home. Not anymore.”

Arwael chuckled, flashing sharp white teeth. “One brush with death and you’re moving out? We made such good roommates, too.”

She pushed past her, busying herself with making the fire. “You’re drunk. I didn’t even know you could get drunk anymore.”

“Mostly built up an immunity, but a certain barkeep owed me a couple bottles of Bloodwine. Argonians know their stuff.”

She had not moved from the door, probably swaying there with that stupid smirk on her face. Serana released a flame from her fingertips, and the fireplace crackled to life. “That was foolish. Isran is in the tavern as we speak, looking for leads on either of us. No one in Riften is doing well enough not to sell us out in an instant.”

“I’d kill them all before I let them in here.”

Arwael’s voice was low, but fierce. A shiver shot down Serana’s spine. She looked up and met her gaze. “You used me as bait.”

She looked away, towards the dying light from outside their window. “They were already there, and ready to kill us. You were in no danger; we’ve already had this conversation, what more do you-”

Serana jumped to her feet, shoving a sparking hand against Arwael. “I want a fucking apology! I had a moment of weakness, and you took that moment to play your stupid fucking _games_ \- I could have been killed!”

Her teeth bared in a growl. “But you weren’t.”

“By chance of luck.”

“There was no _luck_ involved.” Arwael straightened, stalking towards her like prey. Her voice had taken on that low, husky tone that she got when she was either intimidating someone or- “The way I killed those 22 people was the most efficient, precise form of murder there is. I have been at this for centuries, _eras,_ while you were locked away in some bloody rock. They were _mine_ to kill, and when they touched you, they sealed their fates.”

Serana backed away as the dunmer took another step forward, her bottom bumping the table. Her pulse drummed in her ears. “Just because you’re strong, and terrible, and beautiful, you think everything in this world belongs to you.”

Arwael leaned forward, her leather-clad hips brushing against Serana’s. “It does.” Her breath was hot against her ear. “And I’d never let anyone take you from me.”

Heat pooled in her stomach and the room spun. She didn’t want to be weak like this. “I hate loving you.” She stared into her burning eyes. “I fear one day I’ll kill you.”

Arwael closed the inches between them and pressed a soft kiss against her mouth. Gentler than usual, her hands wrapped around Serana’s face, thumb tracing her jawline. Low enough a human wouldn’t hear, she murmured, “I would let you.”

A shaky whine escaped Serana’s throat, and Arwael deepened their kiss. She opened her mouth willingly, dizzy with desire. Only the solid form of her body pressing into her own kept her grounded. Arwael’s hands roamed her curves, pausing to tug at the laces of her bodice. With one drag of her forefinger, the ties came undone. They pulled away from each other, and the corset fell to the floor with a muted thud. Serana surveyed the simple white tunic Arwael wore, much simpler to undo than her normal Brotherhood robes. Through the haze of lust she realized that she clearly had planned for this to end in Serana submitting. A flicker of anger surged within her.

She mouthed down Arwael’s neck, trailing wet kisses down to her pulse point. She inhaled the sweet scent, felt the tantalizing thud of her slowed heartbeat. Taking another vampire’s blood was different than drinking from a common man or mer. Though it didn’t completely sate the Thirst, another sort of high came from it. Serana flattened her tongue against the slate blue skin and sank her teeth into the vein.

Arwael melted against her, moan stuttering in her throat. The table shifted beneath them, wood screeching along the floor.

The sweet, sharp taste of another vampire flooded her senses. One hand clutched the back of Arwael’s neck, her other slipping between her leathers. She drank deeply, breaths uneven, and pushed three fingers up into her. Something like a yelp escaped her mouth. “ _Gods_.”

Arwael’s ragged breath danced over her ears. Her body trembled, leg wrapping around Serana’s. She listened for the hitch in her breath, the telltale sign that she was close-

Then, she shoved the elf, relishing in the furious expression twisting her features as she fell. Serana touched that well of power within her, conjuring a rope around Arwael’s wrists.

The dragonborn hissed. “I could burn these away without a thought.”

She wondered briefly if there was an inch of her body not filled with pride. Serana shook her head, slipping her pants off of her hips. “But you’re not going to.”

She stood bare before her lover, only the fire lighting their room now.  Arwael looked like she’d been on the losing end of a fight. Blood trickling down her neck, eyes wild, her white hair mussed and spread out beneath her like a halo (like some  terrible goddess). 

Serana knelt over her, bracketing Arwael’s face with her thighs. Even bound and beneath her, she looked completely in control. It was infuriating. “You think you own me?”

Arwael’s hips canted, eyes trained on the curls between Serana’s thighs. She wet her lips in response.

Serana leaned back, trailing a finger around Arwael’s already-hard nipples. She pinched, twisted, relishing in the sneer the action brought. “If I could, I’d invite Isran and his lackeys in here to see just how powerful the dragonborn really is.”

“Big words for such a little Nord.”

She was older by an era- not much time for a vampire, but with Serana’s centuries in captivity, it felt even longer. She grabbed a handful of white hair and wrenched it back, exposing Arwael’s throat once more. “Stop talking.”

The fireplace crackled. Serana edged forward, lowering herself onto Arwael. She kept a tight grasp on the back of her head until Arwael acquiesced, pressing a wet kiss to her lower lips. Brows furrowed, she shot a raging glare at her as she tried to free herself. The action managed only to rub her face against Serena in all the right places, though-  _Talos_ , she needed this. And she liked taking what she needed.

The dunmer’s rough tongue flattened out against her vulva. She whimpered, pushing Arwael further beneath her. She slipped her hand behind her, wrapping it around her lover’s throat. _It would be so easy, like this._ Tears leaked from her eyes, the thought combining in a messy haze with the pain of being so close to her pleasure. She choked out, the words a whisper of a sob, “you’ve ruined me.”

With a raspy groan, Arwael licked a path from her clit to her ass, and Serana couldn’t help the stuttered undulation of her hips. Even without use of her hands, she seemed to be everywhere. She dipped her tongue inside, nose brushing her sensitive bud and causing sparks of pleasure to shoot down her body. Then, Arwael captured her clit, sucking and rolling it between her lips and tongue, and her thighs shook of their own accord and- “Oh- _oh fuck-”_

The world went white. Her inner walls seized, and she mourned Arwael’s bound hands. Serana distantly registered a high-pitched moan, realizing through a haze of lust that it was her own. She rode the dunmer’s face through waves of orgasm, never quite catching her breath.

Her thighs gave out and she collapsed backwards, pussy still twitching. A sheen of her come decorated Arwael’s mouth. It suited her.

She was about to tell her she was forgiven. The words never reached her tongue though.

Arwael sat up, one hand around her neck, and the other on her hip, and Serana dimly wondered when she had broken her bindings. Dismay soon replaced any thoughts; she hadn’t thought of facing the repercussions. Pain blossomed as Arwael’s nails dug into her skin. 

Her eyelids fluttered open, frenzied rage heating the glowing gaze before her.

She shoved her backwards, off her lap. With that inhuman speed that terrified their enemies, Arwael was upon her, flipping Serana onto her stomach. She yanked up her hips so that she was on her knees, embarrassingly open to the cool night air. When Serana tried to push up onto her elbows, a shocked palm assaulted her ass. The pulses of electricity remained even after her hand disappeared. “Keep your pretty face on that pretty floor.”

Serana tried to calm her breathing. She was panting on the cold cement ground, feeling herself get wetter every second. _Pathetic._

The glimmer of magic rang through the air. Warily, she chanced a look. Arwael was attaching a shimmering object to her hips, a cylindrical device that looked almost like a sword’s hilt, but thicker, and -

“Arwael-”

She was rewarded with another smack on her ass, harder this time. The pain blossomed, and she knew she would have marks tomorrow. “You got your turn. Now it’s mine.”

Serana had heard of toys like this, but they had never used one. Nerves shot through her body, her limbs shaking- partly from the aftershocks, and partly from fear. She prepared to be entered, but instead, found soft fingers parting her folds. She moaned. Everything was hypersensitive. When Arwael brushed a finger against her entrance, she nearly sobbed. “Don’t- it’s too much.”

Surprisingly, she listened. She wrapped herself around Serana, the device pressing against her back. Arwael trailed her fingers around her areola, circling just close enough to the hard buds that Serana tried to squirm into contact. A cool breeze seemed to surround her nipples, and then she realized what Arwael was doing. The ice magic tightened against the sensitive buds, as if she had clamped them. 

It was such a _tease._ She wanted Arwael’s tongue teasing her nipples, sucking until she reached another release. She wanted her to kiss her with that messy mouth and feel her moan. Instead, she closed her eyes to the pain radiating from them. “To Oblivion with you.”

She wriggled her ass in the air, preparing for another smack. Not that she _wanted_ one, but she would be ready, at least.

Instead, Arwael teased her, massaging from her inner thighs to the sensitive area right below her ass. Heat pooled in her stomach, wetness leaking from her lower lips. Arwael tsked. “So wet, still.” She leaned in, her chest flush against Serana’s back, and trailed a nail down her arm. “You see this? I don’t even need to tie you up to get you to submit.”

The comment was a dig at her. She hated it. She hated even more that she needed to be touched right now.

Arwael bit at her ear and tightened the ice on one of her nipples. The other one, she tugged between her fingers, flicking and pulling while she let the ice melt. Her nipples were so sensitive, each touch shot directly to her clit. She breathed heavily through her mouth, dizziness overcoming her.  The words that came out of her sounded breathless and whiny.  _“Fu-uuck_.”

She realized with a flush of embarrassment that she was arching her hips back.

Arwael’s voice rumbled above her ear. “Beg for it.”

She didn’t want to. She wanted to shove the vampire out the door and let her get caught by the fucking Dawnguard.

Arwael pinched her nipples, her fangs sliding into Serana’s neck. A golden rush of euphoria crowded her head, and she felt her blood pooling into Arwael’s mouth. Her tongue lapped it up, coaxing out more, and the ecstasy covered every corner of her body. It wasn’t enough though. Arwael pulled away for a moment, words thick with blood. “Beg.”

Tears pricked at the corner of her eyes. Embarrassment and need and anger and pleasure warred throughout her body. She bit her lip, the words tumbling out. “Please, please-”

She wasted no time. With her knees, she spread Serana’s thighs further, and pushed up into her. She felt herself stretched, ill-prepared for the width inside her.

Serana keened.

Arwael’s hands wandered everywhere, gripping her thighs, pinching her nipples, rubbing over her already overstimulated clit. She pulled out of her slowly, teasing her entrance, tortuously slow. She kissed a trail across her back. Without warning, Arwael slammed inside her, touching that spot that made stars appear behind her eyes. Serana’s hands shot out from under her, scrabbling for purchase. She felt her ass shake with every thrust, felt the wood scrape against her cheek. She clenched against the magical object, relishing the feeling of being filled. Then Arwael’s fangs were against her neck once more, and she drank deep.

She couldn’t handle it - the blood, the ice tightening her nipples, the constant pulse of Arwael within her- she came with a scream. Her inner walls trembled. Arwael moaned shakily, and her hips faltered. She could smell both of their arousal, imagined the leaking wetness around the object on both ends. The image made her twitch, threatened to undo her once more. Arwael came with a whispered _fuck_ , and they rode out an orgasm together. She collapsed all of her weight against her back, still inside her.

Bliss corded throughout every muscle in her body. 

She sighed, letting her eyes flutter closed.

Arwael lapped at the wounds on her neck. “You’re mine,” she murmured, voice drowsy in that after-sex glow, “as I am yours.”


End file.
